


Captain Attano, Officer of the Guard

by lunaemoth



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22408945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaemoth/pseuds/lunaemoth
Summary: The Empress never chose Corvo as her personal bodyguard. He became one of the Officers of her Guard, but he wasn't there when she was assassinated. It changes a lot of things... and yet not so much.
Relationships: Corvo Attano/Geoff Curnow, Daud & The Whalers (Dishonored)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story years ago. I had plans for it to become a long story rewriting canon, but the Muse failed me before it reached its end. I'm still really fond of it though, and I wanted to publish it. I think I managed to find the right way to end it without it being too sudden, so now I can say it's complete, and... here you go!
> 
> I'm French, and this story has no beta. If there is any grammar or vocabulary mistake, please let me know how I should correct it.

“You should be more careful.”

Corvo looked up from the waistcoat he was unbuttoning and raised an inquiring eyebrow at his companion.

Geoff stepped away from the bedroom door he had locked after bidding good night to his niece. The calm he had displayed during dinner was replaced by a hint of concern. “You got a light punishment by only being transferred from the Tower to Kaldwin’s bridge after questioning Burrows’ orders, you shouldn’t push too much. Your diplomatic status won’t protect you indefinitely.”

Corvo removed his Officer coat and waistcoat, folding them carefully over the back of the chair he was sitting on. He went to take off his boots as he replied: “He doesn’t need excuses to get rid of us if he wishes too. You’re the proof of that, no matter how prestigious he made your transfer to the Distillery District sounded.” 

Getting responsibility of a district was nothing compared to being part of Dunwall Tower’s Elite Guard. Corvo and Geoff had both had very good places there, that’s where they had met, and they had promising careers planned during Empress Jessamine’s reign. However, Burrows had quickly gotten rid of those too loyal to the late Kaldwin, those who asked too many questions. 

Corvo should be responsible for the Tower’s security by now. His promotion had been planned for the day after the Empress’s assassination — which is why he had one last day off before work increased, and he regretted it: maybe if he had been there... When Corvo had questioned why Burrows had left Jessamine defenseless by pulling back every guard from the gazebo, he had lost his position in the Tower, in favor of the military called in reinforcement as soon as Burrows had implemented martial law. 

Corvo’s reputation had taken a hit, going from the respected Serkonan sent to tighten the cooperation between their countries to the meddling foreigner who dared question his betters. Geoff had a point though: it could have been worse. They both knew good men who had recently vanished after speaking a little too loudly. 

“If I have to go, then I’d rather do it with the certitude I have done everything I could to make a difference,” Corvo stated.

Geoff was upon him in two strides, pushing him back with his hands on his shoulders and sliding a knee between his thighs. “Damn it Corvo, you and your goddamn integrity will get you framed and executed. You know what happened to Havelock.”

“Such a loss for humanity,” Corvo commented as he leaned back and looked up, unbothered by being towered over. 

“Don’t be cheeky. The Admiral might have gotten what he sowed for trying to take advantage of the assassination, but everyone with half a brain knows he wasn’t responsible for the Empress’ murder, and you heard what kind of tortures he went through at Coldridge before his execution.”

Corvo tilted his head in agreement. He understood what his friend was getting at, and he could admit — to himself at least — that such a fate was part of his worst nightmares, with dying of the plague. The defamation alone was sickening. 

Sighing, Geoff brushed Corvo’s jaw with his thumb before caressing his ear and neck when he leaned into the touch. “I’m not asking you to sell your soul to the Outsider. Just… be more careful… less cheeky.”

Corvo smiled lopsidedly. “The only other option is silence, and I recall you telling me to be more talkative…”

“With your men. More talkative _with your men_. Be as silent as a grave with Burrows if you want, just… stay low.”

Corvo chuckled and reached for Geoff’s belt, pulling him even closer. “You say that, but you’d be the first one to plant your feet and tell him to fuck off if—”

Geoff interrupted him with a kiss, seizing him by the jaw to angle his head for a deep and slow tangle of lips. They pulled apart just enough to breathe before Corvo craned his neck to kiss his lover’s cheek and tugged on his coat. 

“Come on,” he whispered. “Stop worrying tonight. You do it enough by day.”

Geoff grunted in agreement and took off his outer layers before sliding in Corvo’s lap. 

They rarely had the opportunity to enjoy a whole night together. Getting their schedule to match and finding a good excuse for Corvo to sleep at the Curnow household (far from the barracks where Corvo was living) was always an exercise in patience. Thankfully, their friendship was well-known and no-one questioned their closeness. It wasn’t ideal, but their time together was a relief during an otherwise dismal life.

oOo

Kaldwin’s bridge was an important station, but it wouldn’t have been Corvo’s first choice if he had had his say. It used to be a popular spot for tourists, traders and artists; now it was just one more landmark under lockdown for strategic reasons, leading to few passersby other than those desperate enough to commit suicide. The only place of interest was Sokolov’s safehouse, or the ‘madhouse’ like some guards called it due to the experiments they heard about. 

Disliking inactivity, Corvo was in constant motion, participating in patrols rather than simply organizing them. 

That night, Corvo was accompanied by Lieutenant Tom Appleton as they went to check on every patrol. Tom was an extremely serious man, quiet and withdrawn. He did poorly with other guards since they tended to exclude him, but Corvo didn’t mind his company. He was reliable and qualified, a change from the sons of nobles who had gotten their rank by money alone. 

“Captain,” Tom called as they passed by a backstreet bathed in shadows. 

Corvo followed him inside without hesitation and noticed what had caught his attention: two Overseers and a wolfhound were standing over a crouching silhouette.

“Gentlemen,” Corvo called, stepping forward to get a better view of their victim. “Is there an issue?”

“Move along. This is Overseers’ business... Captain,” one of them replied, changing his tone when he noticed Corvo’s rank insignia. 

“I’m in charge of Kaldwin’s bridge. If there is an issue, I want a report.”

“We caught a heretic,” the Overseer admitted reluctantly. “It’s under control.”

“A heretic?” Corvo repeated as the individual in question glanced at him hesitantly and revealed a young boyish face. “Do you have proof of that, Overseer? Because all I see is a terrified teenager.”

“The young falls even more easily to the Outsider’s lure when—”

“Your proof, Overseer,” Corvo ordered firmly to avoid a lecture.

“We caught him in the act.”

“Of doing what?”

“Of using magic!” The Overseer got annoyed. His wolfhound reacted to his emotions by growling at Corvo and taking a step forward.

Tom strengthened and moved closer with a hand on his pistol. Corvo gave the dog an unimpressed glance. “Control your hound, Overseer. The last time one of them had to be put down by the Watch was already enough of a mess, I believe.”

The dog was pulled back, but the Overseers’ breaths were heavy with pent up frustration.

“Now, I’d have that proof of magic,” Corvo demanded again.

“I told you we caught him in the act.”

“So you have proof, as required by the law when you take custody of a suspected civilian, especially if this civilian is a minor.”

“The Regent—”

“—may have granted you more freedom, but didn’t change the _law_ , Overseer. Show me your proof or _leave_.”

The tension was so high that the wolfhound was growling like a whale-oil motor and pulling on his leash. Tom had ostensibly pulled out his pistol and pointed it on the beast in answer, in case it got free and jumped at the Captain’s throat. Corvo was outwardly calm and impassive, his arms behind his back but not crossed, although he kept a close eye on the Overseers hands and got ready to dodge and block if necessary. 

“The High Overseer will hear of this,” the leading Overseer finally warned as he backed away and pulled the wolfhound toward the end of the street. 

Corvo didn’t bother answering, waiting for them to be far enough away that he could speak low without risking to be heard by them: “It’s fortunate that they didn’t think to point out that our young man was out during curfew, which is a transgression in itself, or that civil rights are suspended under martial law.”

“Indeed, Captain,” Tom agreed as he put away his pistol. 

Corvo stepped toward the teen, who recoiled and eyed him warily. Spreading his gloved hands in a show of peace, Corvo crouched to his level. “Are you hurt?”

He got only a shake of the ruffled head in answer. 

“Now, what are you doing outside at this hour?”

When no answer came forth, Tom pointed out: “The Captain saved your life. The least you could do is reply.”

Corvo raised a hand in appeasement. “My bad. I should have started by introducing myself. I’m Captain Corvo Attano of the City Watch Officers. I’m in charge of this area. What’s your name?”

“Pavel,” was the whisper he got in reply.

“Well, Pavel, you’re out during curfew, which is illegal by the Regent’s orders. I need an explanation.”

“I… I went to look for elixir for… my family.”

Corvo hummed in understanding. The population often got desperate when the risk of getting the Plague was involved. Corvo pulled on his coat and got out his personal ration, handing it out to the boy.

“Captain,” Tom hissed, “that’s your—”

“Take it,” Corvo said, interrupting his man, entirely focused on the boy. “Do you want us to escort you back home?”

With a trembling hand, Pavel accepted and shook his head again.

Corvo straightened. “Alright, but don’t dawdle and don’t get caught. I’d hate to hear that my men — or Overseers — arrested you.”

Pavel nodded and scrambled to run away.

“Captain,” Tom repeated when they were alone, “that was your personal ration. What about you?”

Corvo hummed thoughtfully, looking after the boy and wondering why he was wearing whaler’s clothes (surely they didn’t take teens so young? it was a harsh job, requiring bodily strength). “Don’t worry about me. I’ll talk Sokolov into giving me extra.”

“You don’t like doing that,” Tom pointed out.

“I like seeing families in need even less. The elixir should be given freely to the population.”

They went back to their patrol without noticing the assassins watching them from the rooftops.

“He’ll be dead soon,” Billie Lurk pointed out to her boss.

Daud grunted in agreement. Good men died young, in Dunwall more so than elsewhere.

They turned toward the Whalers appearing by their side. Galia, having gone to fetch their wayward newbie, was lecturing him agitatedly: “I told you to hold onto me no matter what! And what did you do? The first transversal I had to do in a rush to avoid those bastards, and you let go! Have you a death wish, or what?!”

Pavel, white like a sheet at his ordeal and the lecture, nearly fainted when he caught sight of Daud.

“I went to warn Daud to get you out of here,” Galia explained with her arms crossed. Whalers had strict orders not to engage Overseers without his approval. Pavel was lucky he hadn’t been far… and even luckier that his intervention hadn’t been needed. 

“I hope this taught you a lesson,” Daud simply said. “You won’t be able to count on kind souls often. They are an endangered species.” 

Pavel held out the elixir — probably to appease him, that’s how most gangs operated, and the boy had only left the Hatters’ territory a few weeks ago. 

“Keep it. Someone helped you without expecting anything else in return. That’s a rare occasion. It might give you better luck and remind you not to waste his efforts to keep you alive.”

“What did he say his name was?” Thomas asked from the corner of the roof where he was observing the Officers.

“A-attano,” Pavel stuttered. “Captain Corvo Attano.”

“Might be useful to keep in mind,” Thomas pointed out.

Daud hummed in agreement. If the man survived, he might have his uses. In the meantime, they had a Delilah to track.

oOo

“I don’t like this,” Geoff murmured to Corvo as they reached Holger Square. 

They had both been invited by Campbell to speak of the issues between the Watch and the Overseers. Neither of them were eager for the meeting, but they had little choice.

“I’ll go for the sword, take the pistol,” Corvo murmured back.

“Don’t jinx us,” Geoff hissed, but he adjusted his belt nonetheless. He was the best shot, while Corvo was the best swordsman of Dunwall. They didn’t even need to talk to know how to fight together, it was just a reminder that Corvo would have his back.

The masked Overseers weren’t exactly welcoming as they stepped into their territory. As they went up the stairs leading to the High Overseer office, one of the men collided with Corvo’s side and didn’t bother to apologize. Corvo glanced over his shoulder and recognized the Overseer as one of the rare decent ones, which made his behavior all the more surprising. Their eyes met, and Teague Martin subtly patted his own pocket before turning away. 

After making sure no-one was watching him, Corvo found a small piece of paper in his pocket. It contained two words: “ _Don’t drink._ ” He rolled it into a tight ball and threw it away as soon as he could do so discreetly. The warning was clear. Corvo clenched his jaw as they were welcomed by Campbell and his false smile. Far from being capable of similar hypocrisy, Corvo simply nodded in greeting. 

Geoff talked for both of them, Corvo being known as a man of few words. They were led to a meeting room where three glasses already full were waiting for them. When Campbell offered them one, Corvo spoke up before Geoff could:

“Thank you, but we have a meeting after, we can’t indulge.”

Noticing the lie and his inclusion in the refusal, Geoff shot Corvo a questioning look but went along.

“I’m sure a simple glass of wine won’t be an issue,” Campbell tried to convince them.

“General Turnbull is rather strict on the matter,” Corvo replied firmly without giving an inch, standing tall (towering a head over Campbell, the man was rather short) with his arms behind his back.

“Very well,” the High Overseer said with clenched teeth and so little composure that Geoff understood something strange was afoot. “Well, no matter. I wanted to show you something downstairs, come along.”

As they were herded yet again through corridors, Geoff and Corvo ignored Campbell’s chatter in favor of mouthing to each other behind his back:

“Poison?” Geoff asked.

“Probably,” Corvo replied. 

“What next?”

Corvo made a face to express his ignorance. He was tempted to get rid of Campbell, but how to do so without incriminating themselves in those conditions? 

The High Overseer activated a hidden mechanism at the bottom of another set of stairs and invited them into what appeared to be a secret storage room. While Geoff made conversation and took a look at the painting Campbell was speaking of, Corvo stayed back. 

“And over here, Captain Attano, you can see an exclusive sketch of our late Empress Jessamine. I know how admirative you were of her.” 

It was silly of him, to take his eyes away from Campbell even for a second, but Corvo only corrected himself when he heard Campbell’s sword leave its sheath. Fortunately, Corvo was faster, the fastest, and his sword was pointed at Campbell’s throat before the High Overseer could do more than raise its own toward Geoff.

“Drop it,” Corvo ordered.

Geoff moved away hastily, but he didn’t have much space to move and could still be hurt by Campbell before Corvo could kill him. As they were all aware of this, the scene came to a stand still.

“I admit I had pegged you wrong at first, Attano. It was rather obvious that you were besotted with the Empress. I took you for a gallant fool, but it was smart of you to hide your peculiar tastes behind an impossible unrequited love,” Campbell said, turning his attention toward Corvo. 

“What are you talking about?”

“No need to be coy with me, Captains. I don’t mind your relationship, and I’m sure we can come to an… understanding. Surely—”

A detonation interrupted Campbell and startled Corvo. The High Overseer’s corpse fell heavily to the ground, blood pouring out of his half-blown head.

Slowly, Corvo lowered his sword and looked at Geoff, who stared back defiantly, smoking pistol in hand. 

“I don’t take well to blackmail,” Geoff said defiantly, his chin raised in challenge. 

“... So I see,” Corvo murmured as he sheathed his sword. “Far from me the idea to judge, Geoff, but this is a little messier and noisier than I’d have prefered.” He looked over his shoulder at the partially open door, hoping no-one was passing by the remote hallway and heard the shot. He went to check and was only half surprised to see Teague Martin approaching carefully. 

“If you’re alive, I take it after that shot that Campbell isn’t,” Martin said.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Corvo asked with a hand on the pommel of his sword.

“Not for me,” Martin replied. 

Corvo waved him inside and closed the passage door.

Geoff was adjusting Campbell’s pistol in the dead man’s hand. He looked at Martin distrustfully.

“Martin was the one who warned me about the drinks,” Corvo explained.

“Campbell was getting overconfident,” Martin commented before nodding to Geoff. “Disguising it as a suicide? Good idea. If we leave him here, it could take until tomorrow morning before anyone finds him. Did you remove a bullet from the chamber?”

“Of course,” Geoff muttered.

Martin nodded and stepped forward to pat Campbell’s pockets, trying to avoid the blood and stay away from the growing puddle. He pulled out a black journal.

“What is it?” Geoff asked.

“All the blackmail Campbell used to get—”

Before Martin could finish his sentence, Geoff had snatched the book from his hands and held it out over a lamp until it caught fire. 

“Sorry,” Corvo said as he grabbed Martin by the back of his vest so he couldn’t intervene, “but Geoff has a thing against blackmail.”

“That’s idiotic!” Martin hissed in rage. “Do you know how many things we could have learned from this?” 

Corvo let him go when there was nothing to salvage and crossed his arms. “You’re smart, Martin. You want his place? You can get it on your own.”

“This goes beyond the Abbey! Campbell was thick as thieves with Burrows, this journal contained secrets of state!”

“All the more reasons to burn it,” Geoff replied with satisfaction.

“Even if it prevents us to know what really happened to Empress Jessamine?”

“What do you mean?” Corvo asked, frowning.

“Do you really think Havelock was behind her assassination? Of course not, so who else? Who had the most to gain? And who was capable to pull it off?”

Burrows. Professional assassins… probably the Knife of Dunwall.

Corvo bit his bottom lip and glanced at the charred pieces of paper. 

Geoff glared at him for his second thoughts and at Martin for trying to convince him. “Whatever it contained, it doesn’t matter, what is wrongly acquired can’t be useful to the fair mind. Now, Campbell committed suicide after burning his secrets, and _after_ our talk to him. He was fine, if rather strange and moody when we last saw him. Do we all agree on this?”

Corvo nodded compliantly. 

Martin sighed and smoothed his hair back but nodded. “I get why Campbell found you troublesome, Captains. You’re too good for Dunwall.”

“I feel obliged to remind you you’re talking to those who killed your superior officer and are currently covering his murder,” Geoff pointed out, nonplussed.

“Yes, well… that’s just community service,” Martin remarked.

“He has a point,” Corvo admitted with a shrug when Geoff turned toward him. “Who is gonna miss him?”

“Burrows,” Geoff replied, exasperated. “ _That_ ’s the problem.”

“I guess we’ll have to take care of him next then.”

“Bite your fucking tongue, Corvo,” Geoff replied, sighing but resigned to his lover’s nonchalance in the face of danger.

oOo

An hour later, Corvo followed Geoff home to talk about what had transpired. At the last minute, Corvo noticed blood was visible on Geoff’s dark blue coat, and the light was on in the living room, showing that Callista was waiting for her uncle to come home. 

In a rush, Corvo pulled Geoff in his arms once they had passed the front door, holding him to his chest to hide the stain with his own body. Geoff cursed in surprise, far from being appeased by the kiss to his jaw given in excuse. 

Callista, who was stepping into the lobby, hid a smile at the sight. “Good evening Corvo, uncle. I’m glad to see you home. I’ll… leave you to it,” she said with her usual grace as she retreated.

“Good evening Callista,” Corvo called back, letting his lover go as soon as they were alone. 

Geoff was self-conscious of any public displays of affection. He glared at Corvo for the ordeal until he glanced at the hand tapping his coat and noticed the rather large stain. He cursed between his teeth and muttered reluctantly: “Thanks.”

“Give me your coat and go see her,” Corvo offered. “I’ll wait in your room.”

Nodding in agreement, Geoff complied and went to speak to his niece. While they were living together since they were the last of their family, they rarely had much time to share due to the Officer’s schedule. Corvo did his best not to impinge upon it, even if Callista maintained he was always welcome.

Putting aside Geoff’s coat, Corvo removed his own and stretched before watching the street through a gap between the curtains. The Curnows were living in a relatively good part of town, halfway between the Estate District and the Distillery District, so in between Callista and Geoff’s places of work and incidentally not too far from Corvo’s. 

The curtains of Geoff’s room were kept shut to avoid anyone getting an eyeful of their illicit affair. As they always came at night, it didn’t bother them anyway.

Corvo went to lie down on the bed with only his pants on, watching the ceiling from the light of a single lamp on the bedside table.

He must have dozed off, because the next time he opened his eyes, it was to Geoff climbing over him.

“Void, you’re so handsome,” he murmured as he leaned down to kiss any skin in reach.

Corvo hummed and tried to sit up, but Geoff pushed him back against the pillows and applied himself to kissing him thoroughly. Once Corvo was suitably dazed, Geoff kissed his jaw, sucked on his neck and caressed his chest.

Understanding that his lover needed to blow off steam, Corvo lazily surrendered to his ministrations. He buried his fingers in Geoff’s hair and scratched the soft skin he knew to be sensitive. 

Geoff took his time, but he was agitated and a little brusque. Corvo calmed him with soft touches and gentle words when he got frantic. 

Once they laid together in a sweaty, panting tangle of limbs, Corvo knew that it hadn’t been enough. He rubbed the back of Geoff’s neck and asked:

“What’s on your mind?”

Geoff snorted. “What do you think? I killed the High Overseer, Corvo.”

“It was for the best. Don’t think I wouldn’t have done the same. The difference is that a sword in the gut would be rather hard to disguise as a suicide.”

“No, the difference is that you’d have waited until we had no other choice, whereas—”

Corvo reversed their position to lie on top of Geoff and forced him to meet his eyes. “Don’t. We _had_ no other choice. You were just faster to recognize it than I was. Don’t second guess yourself, Geoff. It isn’t worth it. Of all the men you ever killed, if there’s only one who deserved it, it was him, and everyone knows it.”

Geoff bit his bottom lip and finally admitted what truly bothered him: “It’s the second time I killed to protect the secret of a liaison… I hoped I was done with it.”

Corvo tilted his head to kiss him gently. There was little he could say to appease him, all he could try to do was reminding him it was worth it. 

Geoff accepted the touch but pulled back after a few seconds. “What about Martin? What if he betrays us?”

“He won’t,” Corvo replied, resting his head on his lover’s shoulder.

“How do you know? Finding the murderers of the High Overseer would give him an edge to become the next one.”

Corvo hadn’t thought of that and took a few seconds to ponder the politics of this mess. It wasn’t exactly his strong point. While Geoff was more aware of it, it wasn’t his either.

“That would bring more questions than not,” Corvo finally remarked.

That didn’t seem to appease Geoff, so Corvo leaned on an elbow, his chin in his hand to ask with a sigh: “Do you want me to kill Martin?”

Geoff hit him in the shoulder and rolled his eyes. “Outsider’s eyes, you have the worst humor!”

“Who said I was joking? I’d do what I have to, to protect you.”

Taken aback, Geoff was speechless for a few seconds before he shook his head. “Just… forget it. We made our bed, we have to lie in it. Still… if we are to be dragged in prison tomorrow morning…”

“You don’t want me to be found here,” Corvo guessed.

Geoff’s silence was all the answer he needed, and Corvo nodded before getting out of the sheets. As he got dressed, Geoff watched him, sitting and rubbing his face with the expression of a defeated and tired soldier. 

“Just say it,” Corvo advised as he adjusted his belt around his coat. Ready to leave, he faced Geoff with a good idea of what was going to be said.

“We should… lay low for a while,” Geoff said reluctantly.

Corvo nodded in understanding. “As you wish.”

The quiet acceptance pained Geoff as much as it relieved him. He murmured a soft: “Corvo…”

“We have an agreement, Geoff. I’ll hold it,” Corvo replied with the assurance of a promise. From the first time they had laid together, they had agreed that their sexual affair was second to both their friendship and their careers. They had promised each other that a simple request of one of them would suffice to end it and come back to a simple friendship. It had been years, but it still held, no matter how difficult it was. Neither of them was the kind to shy away from difficult decisions. “Take care of yourself. I’ll see you at the next meeting.”

Geoff looked down in regret but didn’t take his words back. Corvo’s hand caressing his jaw in goodbye would be their last touch for a while.


	2. Chapter 2

Four days later, no-one had come to drag them to Coldrige, and the High Overseer’s death had been officially called a suicide. Unofficially, the rumor in the Guard was that Burrows had gotten even more paranoid and asked for more Overseers to patrol in the Tower, as if he was worried about heretics. If he thought those were the ones responsible, Corvo couldn’t complain: his suspicions couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

The Feast of Painted Kettles hadn’t started yet. The Ascending Circle needed to be reunited to decide who the next High Overseer would be, and those outside of Dunwall weren’t in a hurry to get into an infested city. 

Weeks would probably be needed before the Abbey got a new leader, which was why Corvo was quite surprised to be informed by his men that a big detachment of Overseers was passing under Kaldwin’s bridge. 

Corvo went to the nearest window to see four large boats moving toward the south. They weren’t ships appropriate for the sea but for the transfer of troops along the river, which meant they had a big operation planned in Dunwall. How could something big happen without a leader to organize it?

“Tell the sentry on the mast to keep an eye on them and try to determine their destination. If he has one, inform me immediately,” Corvo ordered the lieutenant who had warned him, one of the rare women in the Guard. “And good work for warning me.”

She saluted and left his office, to be replaced a minute later by Tom Appleton.

“Captain. There is an issue who might need your mediation at Sokolov’s house.”

“Void… Every time you use that word, I know I’m going to get a headache out of it.”

“Issue, sir?”

“No. Mediation.” It meant that Sokolov had gotten on his high horse. There was nothing worse than a haughty Sokolov. His men complained for days when they had to deal with one of those occasions. 

Without fail, when Corvo stepped in the Safehouse, the first thing he heard was Sokolov’s angry rantings. Noises carried in this open space with a high ceiling. He could have found his way by the sound alone.

“Ah! Captain Attano! Finally!” Sokolov exclaimed when he saw him, as if he had been the one to call for him and not exasperate his men into fetching him. “Get this impostor out of here!”

The inventor was gesturing toward a frail man with small round glasses, receding hair and nervous hands. While Corvo didn’t know him, he recognized the noble standing by his side: Lord Treavor Pendleton, who hastily stepped in.

“Captain Attano! May I present to you natural philosopher and inventor Piero Joplin? You may know his most popular invention, Piero's Spiritual Remedy.”

“A pale copy of my elixir!” Sokolov shouted.

The natural philosopher who had barely nodded in greeting to Corvo suddenly puffed up in outrage. “A copy? _You_ stole my earliest formula!”

Corvo knew where this was going and interrupted with the loudest “SILENCE!” he could muster. 

“Captain,” Sokolov tried to speak nonetheless.

“Dr. Sokolov, Void help me, if you say one more word, I will order the seizing of every bottle of brandy you have in this house and distribute them to my men.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“I’m having a bad week. Try me.”

Profoundly vexed, Sokolov kept quiet nonetheless. 

Corvo turned toward their guests. “Lord Pendleton, while your noble birth gives you more leniency than most, I expect you have a _good_ reason for bringing an unauthorized individual in this safehouse.” 

Pendleton straightened, tugging on his coat’s lapels nervously. “Of course! As I was explaining, I have been sponsoring Mr. Joplin these last months. He has made great progress in researching the plague due to the finances I have provided, but it appeared to us that faster advancements could be made if some… cooperation could be implemented.”

“You want Joplin to work with Sokolov,” Corvo summarized.

“Well, I was...” At Corvo’s impatient expression, Pendleton interrupted himself and admitted: “Yes.”

“It’s out of the question!” Sokolov reiterated. 

“Lieutenant Appleton, escort our guests to the kitchen for a cup of tea. I’ll speak to Dr. Sokolov alone.”

Tom corralled Pendleton and Joplin toward the exit before closing the door behind them. 

“Attano, I refuse to let him anywhere near my work! He—”

“—invented an elixir which is as effective as yours against the plague and twenty percent cheaper, while doing so without the means you have. An elixir that is currently saving thousands of people who can’t afford _your_ version because of its limited availability and expensive cost,” Corvo said as he walked slowly around the long table of the dining room. He stopped at its head and leaned forward, palms to the wood to keep himself calm and grounded. “I don’t care how much of the formula belongs to you or him. That’s between you two. What I get from all of this, Sokolov, is that someone is capable of understanding your work and to adapt it successfully. And, while you were complaining just last week about the lack of competent assistants, you are willing to push away exactly what you need. So I’m waiting to hear one _good_ reason why you can’t work with Piero Joplin when all of Dunwall’s future and thousands of lives rest on you and how fast you can create a cure, Doctor.”

Their eyes met, and silence went on.

“We can’t stand each other. Our rivalry would be a distraction,” Sokolov finally admitted reluctantly but honestly.

Corvo breathed in as he straightened and retraced his steps. “Yet, _he_ is here, willing to work with you and making the first move.”

“He’s clearly hoping to get something from this.”

“Something like a cure? Don’t scoff. You know what the Empress would say to that.”

“Which Empress?” Sokolov mocked.

“Both. Emily would tell you to stop pouting and put on your big boy pants on. Jessamine would remind you that the fate of her Empire, and of her people, are in your hands… and her conviction that they couldn’t be safer. Are you going to disappoint them?”

“That’s low, Corvo,” Sokolov sighed. 

“And you weren’t? We can’t offer the luxury of pride anymore, Sokolov.”

“Pride is all I have left.”

“No, it’s not. Pride didn’t make you who you are, your intelligence did. So, use it and ask yourself what matters the most,” Corvo advised before going for the door.

“Aren’t you going to order me to cooperate with Joplin?”

“Only one woman could have given you orders, and everything she cared for is at your mercy,” Corvo pointed out as he pushed the door open and left. 

Sokolov’s curses resonated in the open space. 

A guard asked with a smirk: “Did you confiscate his brandy, Captain?”

“Worse,” Corvo promised.

As he left the safehouse, the female Lieutenant whom Corvo had left to monitor the Overseers’ boats situation jogged toward him. “Captain!” They stopped in front of the stairs leading to the docks. “Captain, you requested to be kept updated about the Overseers’ destination. They stopped in the Flooded District.”

“The Flooded District?” Corvo repeated. “What could Overseers want in there?”

“Maybe they’re trying to reclaim it, Sir? They’d need at least four squads to clean it up.”

“They’d need more than that to clean everything up,” Corvo muttered in thought, glancing in the darkness of the stairs. He thought he had heard something… “This matters little, but tell the look-out to keep an eye on them, just in case.”

“Yes, Captain!” The lieutenant saluted and left promptly. 

Corvo hesitated, but his instincts wouldn’t let the matter alone. He went down to check the docks. All he could see at first glance were barrels, but he took a few steps further and suddenly a weight pulled him to the ground, an arm tightening around his neck and a blade appearing in his face.

“Fisher!” someone hissed.

Corvo went for his blade, but a masked whaler appeared in front of him and kicked his hand. 

“Don’t,” he (she? the voice was distorted by the mask, but it might be a she) said. They were the one hissing after the one who was holding Corvo down. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you try to shout or fight.”

“What did you say about Overseers?” The one behind Corvo asked urgently.

Corvo took in as many details as possible and thought it through. His assailant was good, his grip tight and without weakness for Corvo to exploit. He couldn’t see a way out of it without injury, not with an accomplice keeping an eye on him from the front. He didn’t have another choice than cooperating for now.

“Four boats of Overseers went down the river and moored in the Flooded District.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t receive any information which can explain it.”

The breaths of his assailants were fast and loud.

“We have to go and warn them,” the one in front of him murmured. “ _Don’t_ kill him.”

“He has seen us,” the other replied, but instead of the blade to the throat he was expecting, Corvo was hit with what felt like a needle to the neck. 

As the world got fuzzier, Corvo saw the two Whalers disappear in tendrils of ash and shadows.

The Whalers’ clothes. It was a uniform. A uniform for a group of heretics. There was only one such group well known and organized in Dunwall. Daud’s men. 

Pavel had been one of his.

“That man should take better care of his kids,” Corvo thought nonsensically as he passed out. 

oOo

When Daud came back from dealing with Timsh in the Legal District, the last thing he expected was to find his men cowering in the sewers under the Flooded District. Thomas informing him that their hideout was overrun by Overseers was just confirmation of what he had already guess. No-one else would have forced his men to retreat instead of fighting back. 

“Why didn’t you fight?” Billie asked as she appeared by his side.

“They have too many music boxes, which they play non-stop. If Fisher and Rapha hadn’t warned us, they could have picked us one by one. I chose to call the retreat,” Thomas explained, standing firmly with his hands behind his back.

“You did well,” Daud stated, nipping any debate in the bud.

“How did you know they were coming?” Billie asked Fisher and Rapha.

“We overheard guards at Kaldwin’s bridge. They said four boats of Overseers had moored in the Flooded District, and they didn’t know why. We came back as fast as we could.”

Daud nodded in approval, but Billie was relentless in her criticisms:

“Most of our equipment is still upstairs, and they must have already gotten hold of it. We can’t leave it behind.”

Daud raised an eyebrow. “Who said anything about leaving? It’s time to push back and show them we don’t need anything supernatural to kick their asses.”

Shouts and claps of approval rang out in the sewers as Whalers stood up from their defeated stances, waiting for orders with renewed enthusiasm.

“Masters, you are with me. Novices, get ready for my signal.”

Taking their hideout back was the easy part. 

Dealing with Billie’s betrayal was the hardest thing Daud could remember doing.

oOo

“...don’t you think it’s weird that the Captain was knocked out by a dart?”

“Shut up, and don’t question our luck. It would have taken ages to get the drop on him. Now we can finally get that promotion Burrows promised us.”

Corvo was swimming in cotton with limbs of lead and a pulsing head. He groaned as he tried to make his brain work and comprehend what was being said around him and why he was moving when it was certainly not of his own accord.

“Shit, he’s waking up. Are we there yet?”

“Fuck. This place will do. Just drop him, the rats will find him before he can stand up.”

A drop of a few meters was certainly a great wake-up call. Adrenaline flooding his system, Corvo opened his eyes and rolled away from the rock digging into his back — that was going to leave bruises.

He had been dumped in a mostly dry but soon to be submerged part of the riverbank, near a sewer drain. There were men running away higher on the quays, toward the nearby Kaldwin’s bridge. Distinctive noises were coming from the sewers. Rats were coming. A lot of them.

Corvo tried to stand up, but his legs refused to cooperate and his hands slipped on the rock covered in seaweed. He fell on the ground and gained a few more bruises for his trouble, hitting himself in the chin and blacking out again.

“How unfortunate.”

When Corvo opened his eyes again, the world had taken a light blue tint and everything looked frozen while simultaneously floating. He hadn’t chosen the right time for imaginative dreams.

“Such a lackluster death for the greatest swordsman of Dunwall.”

There was a man hovering above the ground with pale skin and completely black eyes. How peculiar.

As Corvo tried to straighten to see better, he realized that his body was responding perfectly, contrary to a moment ago. He stood up without difficulty and looked around. Part of the world had detached and seemed to float… in the Void. 

“Am I dead?” Corvo asked.

“Not yet,” the peculiar man replied. “Soon.”

“Alright…” Corvo nodded slowly, assessed his surroundings and then his interlocutor. After a moment of analysis, he asked: “What can I do for you?”

The man froze then tilted his head like Corvo had performed an unexpected trick. “It’s rather the other way around, my dear Corvo.”

“Is it? … Then, what can you do for me?”

“Giving you the means to live and get your revenge.”

“Ah. So you _are_ the Outsider. I was wondering.” Corvo nodded in understanding and looked around one more time. So that was what the Void looked like. It certainly was… unique.

“You’re taking this rather well for someone who has just been betrayed and left to the rats by his men at the order of the Regent,” the god commented before bending forward, his eyes to Corvo’s level. “But this isn’t exactly a surprise, is it? Oh, Corvo, your life is a succession of missed opportunities. Twice those you loved the most withdrew from you and twice you let them go.”

“If you love someone, you let them go,” Corvo murmured without meeting the deity’s eyes. Those words were his mother’s. She had uttered them after Beatrici had left, and then when he had told her he was sent to Dunwall. 

“Are you reproducing your mother’s passivity due to your own guilt at leaving her?” The Outsider asked with a tilt of his head. “How fitting. Yet, I’m disappointed. You robbed me of some entertaining possibilities. Will you do so again?”

Corvo frowned. Annoyance at the deity’s judgment caused him to stand his ground and meet the Outsider’s unnerving eyes. “What do you want?”

“Your loyalty is only surpassed by your determination, Corvo. I wonder, what would you do… if you knew that your only night with Jessamine bore fruit?”

Corvo froze and inhaled sharply. He had wondered… but it hadn’t been his place to hope. Before he had started his relationship with Geoff, when he was still a young officer, he had accompanied the Empress on an expedition in the north. They had shared one night. Emily was born eight months later. He had been with Geoff for a few days at her birth, and he had put the matter to rest. If the Empress had wished him to know, she’d have said something. He had to respect her wishes.

“Yes,” the Outsider confirmed. “Emily is your daughter. As we speak, she dreams of the man her mother told her about — a strong, loyal and good man. She imagines how he would save her from the Regent and the cold dreary tower. She cries herself to sleep, dreaming of that man. Such a shame that he’ll die eaten by rats.”

Overcome by anger and desperation, Corvo gritted his teeth and took a step forward. 

The Outsider disappeared and crouched on a nearby rock with a self-satisfied smirk. “Yes, that’s more like it. Your heart burns bright when given the proper motivation. So, Corvo… would you take my gifts?”

“Yes!” Corvo’s shout ended in a hiss of surprise as pain radiated from his left hand. He rose it to his eyes to see a black mark burning into his skin. Breathing heavily, Corvo inspected it before looking up at the god. “What does it do?”

“Try it.” The Outsider pointed to the quays above them. “Focus and visualize yourself above the—”

Corvo had already blinked on top of the quays. He staggered at the unexpected move.

The Outsider reappeared in front of him with his hands crossed behind his back. He looked like a kid trying out a new toy. “Excellent. This promises to be interesting.”

Corvo suddenly woke up to time resuming its normal course and a swarm of rats rushing at him. Instinctively, Corvo clenched his hand and copied what he had just done. He reappeared on the quays, only to fall on his ass as his weakened body reacted even worse than his dream one. He cursed, checked that nothing was in a hurry to eat him this time, and turned his face toward the starry sky with a heavy tired sigh. As he noticed the moon in between clouds, he pushed himself up.

His daughter was counting on him.

oOo

Geoff opened his bedroom’s door with shaking fingers. He had drunk too much, more than he had in ages, hoping to drown his pain, his sorrow, and his regrets. It had failed completely, of course. 

He closed the door behind him and stumbled toward his bed.

“Geoff.”

The soft call startled him badly. He spun around and tried to get his gun out of his holster.

“Easy, Geoff. It’s me.”

Frozen with his hand on the grip, Geoff stared fixedly at the ghost who talked to him with a soft voice and tender expression. When he was sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him, he jumped on the apparition and grabbed his face between his hands, kissing his lips and cheeks feverishly. “Corvo! Void, Corvo, I thought—”

“I know.”

“They said you were— that the rats...”

“I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t catch you sooner,” Corvo murmured softly, cupping Geoff’s jaw and caressing his cheek reassuringly. “Some guards tried to get rid of me on Burrows’ orders, but I managed to escape. I had to lay low for a while, though.”

Geoff grasped Corvo’s shirt, holding on to him tightly, to anchor himself as much as to keep his friend from leaving him again. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the shoulder of the taller man, and inhaled deeply to memorize his scent. Corvo clearly hadn’t washed in days, but under the sweat and the dirt, there was the familiar smell that Geoff had thought permanently gone; it made all the rest insignificant. 

Corvo put an arm around Geoff’s shoulders and hugged him, pressing his lips to his ex-lover’s temple. 

Breathing in deeply, Geoff looked up with red but dry eyes. “Burrows? You think he knows for Campbell?”

“I don’t know,” Corvo admitted, “but you should be careful. Warn Callista. Make plans to leave and do so if you have any doubts.”

“And you? What are you planning to do? Play dead and leave town?”

“No. I’m going to stop him.”

Geoff paused before nodding. “Why doesn’t it surprise me? ”

Corvo gave him a tight-lipped smile. He planned to make good use of his death.

oOo

Pavel was getting better at using his powers. He was quite proud of it. Thomas had congratulated him on the speed to which he was learning. It had only been two weeks since Daud had shared the Arcane Bond with him, and he could transverse without losing his balance, whether he was standing or in a more unstable position. 

That was due to the exercises he did on his own, in an unused building at the border of the Whalers hideout. 

After his big mishap during his first encounter with Overseers, Pavel was determined to show Daud he hadn’t been wrong to trust him with the Bond. Daud had said it was to avoid any similar situation where he couldn’t get out of a bad spot on his own, and Pavel would ensure this was exactly what would happen. He wouldn’t be caught defenseless again. 

“So, you can do it too.”

Squealing in fright, Pavel transversed to the nearest beam, which started to collapse under his weight, so he transversed to the top of a bookcase, only to find it was already occupied by the man who had scared the shit out of him, so he tried to strike him, only for his wrist to be caught in a firm grip, trapping him. 

Wide-eyed, Pavel stared the newcomer in the eyes and grew pale as he recognized him.

“Hello,” Captain Corvo Attano said calmly. “I have a few questions.”

“W-what? I mean… how did you get here?”

“I have that thing that you use, except there is less…” The man gestured with his free hand, the left one, marked with black. “Swirling darkness, and more light.”

“You have the Outsider’s mark?” Pavel squeaked, now thoroughly terrified. Only strong and scary people got the mark.

“Don’t you?”

“No. I mean… not really...”

“Then, how do you…” Corvo expanded his hand, probably to represent a Transversal.

“My power comes from… someone else?”

“Oh.” Corvo paused and thought this through. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“S-since when do you have it?” Pavel asked, emboldened by the Captain’s affability.

“A week.”

“I… I only got it two weeks ago myself, and I don’t have as many powers as you probably do,” Pavel explained apologetically. He owed the man one, so he wouldn’t mind helping, but even if he could, he didn’t know if he was allowed to. This was a Captain of the Guard after all.

“You’re part of Daud’s gang, the Whalers, aren’t you? ”

Pavel froze, the mere idea of saying anything giving him cold sweat. He was a horrible liar.

Corvo nodded as if he had answered. “I thought so. You’re the assassins who killed the Empress.” That was a statement. That was one of those calm statements that triggered a storm. 

Oh, shit.

“I-I have n-no idea what you mean,” Pavel stuttered. Void, that was terrible, he didn’t believe himself either, so it was no surprise when Corvo nodded again. 

Yet, he stayed calm and focused on his interrogation:

“Do you know where Lady Emily is?”

“N-no.” Thankfully, that wasn’t a lie. Yet, Corvo stared at him, dubious. “I swear! I swear I don’t know where she is. I’m not even sure Daud knows. I don’t know! I’m just a novice… Oh, Void, please don’t kill me,” he mumbled in fright at the guard’s displeased look.

Corvo sighed and shook his head. “I wouldn’t kill you,” he said before staring into space, thoughtful. “Is Daud loyal to Burrows?”

“No!” Pavel blurted out because, eww, the Regent was despicable, but he plastered a hand over his lips to stop himself from saying more. He would already be in so much trouble if Daud learned he had talked to an outsider.

Corvo nodded. “Good enough.” He patted Pavel’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

In a flash of light, Pavel was left alone in the desolate building. 

“Oh, Void,” the novice murmured. What was he supposed to do? admit everything to Daud? Their boss was already in such a foul mood after Billie’s betrayal and with the Delilah threat… He was busy dealing with that, trying to get Lizzy Stride to take him to Brigmore manor. So, Pavel probably shouldn’t bother him about something so trivial… right?

oOo

“Pavel.”

The novice startled and spun around to face the Master Whaler who had appeared behind him.

“Is everything alright?” Thomas asked, now recognizable to his considerate tone. 

Pavel pulled on his too big gloves nervously. “Y-y-yes! Why are you asking?” 

“You’ve been fidgety lately… more than usual. Is something on your mind?”

Pavel hesitated, and then immediately caved. To be honest, he had been waiting on someone exposing him in a way or another. That it was Thomas gave him the confidence to just admit everything. Everyone knew Thomas was the Master to talk to for a kind ear. 

“I made a mistake,” Pavel blurted out.

Thomas tilted his head. “Alright. What is it?”

So, Pavel told him everything, like a torrent of words after a dam broke. Thomas had gone stiff, which was a sure sign that it was bad, and Pavel whined at the end: “I’m so sorry, Thomas. I didn’t mean to. I barely said anything, I swear! He just guessed.”

“When was this?”

“T-three days ago?”

“Damn it, Pavel,” Thomas sighed. 

“Sorry.”

“Let’s go see Daud.”

“Now? But he must still be tired from his fight at Brigmore—”

“ _Now_ , Pavel!” 

“Yes, Sir!” The novice scrambled after his elder, although he was shaking in fright.

Daud… was not happy. Sitting behind his desk with an elbow on the dark wood and his chin in his palm, he was staring at Pavel like he was considering the best way to kill him… slowly… painfully. 

He was still clearly tired. The adventure at Brigmore’s manor the previous day had been rather long and magically exhausting from what the Whalers had been told. Daud had won though, of course. Daud always won.

A tired Daud was a grumpier than usual Daud, but also a quieter one. His silence was _not_ a good sign, and Pavel was ready to faint at the merest lift of a finger in his direction. 

“He was marked,” Daud finally said, slowly. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, Sir!” 

“Did he threaten you, the Whalers, or I, in any way?”

“No, Sir.”

Daud hummed and rubbed his face. “Thomas?”

“I had heard rumors that the Captain had died. Killed by rats, so they said. A good guard would hardly get killed like this, sounds like covering up.”

“And the black-eyed bastard got in the way.” Daud nodded and leaned back in his chair. “Is he a threat?”

“I don’t think so.” Having replied in unison, Pavel and Thomas glanced at each other.

Daud raised an eyebrow at them.

“He’s a good man,” Pavel said.

“At worse, I think he can be bargained with,” Thomas replied, more cautiously.

“Bargained?”

“From what he said to Pavel, he wants to save Lady Emily.”

Daud nodded in understanding before tapping his fingers against his desk. “Sounds like a man loyal to the Empress. He could want revenge.”

“He could,” Thomas agreed. “But he also seems intelligent enough to choose his battles, or he would haven’t fled so easily, first when he was left for dead and then when he met Pavel.”

Daud hummed in agreement. “We’ll see. Warn the sentries. That’s one more person knowing where we are… We’ll need to move.”

“Out of Dunwall, Sir?” Thomas asked, familiar with Daud’s thoughts about leaving the plagued city for good.

“Maybe.”

oOo 

Two days later, Daud was stretching his tired muscles carefully. He had overdone it at Brigmore’s manor to stay one step ahead of all those witches. His body wasn’t the only part of him feeling the aftereffects of this mission, though. His mind felt sluggish and lethargic.

He had dealt with Delilah. What now? 

Was it his end, like the Outsider had suggested? If yes, then how? What came next? 

That’s the question stamped in his mind, and he didn’t seem to be able to find the beginning of an answer.

“Sir.”

Pulling on his gloves methodically, Daud looked over his shoulder at the Master whaler who had appeared. Rinaldo.

“Corvo Attano made contact with Pavel.” 

Now, this… This was unforeseen. A new Marked, another one. Daud had gone decades without meeting any Marked before, and then he got saddled with two in as many weeks. Was this Attano the next step in the Outsider’s sick little games? The Void forsaken deity hadn’t appeared since Delilah’s demise. What was he playing at?

Only one way to find out.

“Let’s go,” Daud sighed.

A few buildings away, on a rooftop, Whalers were surrounding Corvo and Pavel with crossbows pointed at the (former) guard. 

“Do some of them have the Mark?” Corvo asked curiously. That was a lot of people with powers.

Pavel was going to answer negatively when Daud appeared. With his red coat and scowling naked face, he was an eagle among ravens. Corvo barely had to follow Pavel’s eyes to conclude: “I’ll take that for a yes.” 

“Release him,” Daud ordered with his sword bare.

“Yes, about that,” Corvo said to Pavel, “I’m sorry, but I’d prefer to keep you here until those crossbows are lowered. Nothing personal, although I would agree to replace you with the asshole who knocked me out with a sleep dart.”

“Someone knocked you out?” Pavel blurted out, wide-eyed. Despite the blade which had appeared near his kidneys, he didn’t feel threatened by Corvo, and might actually be a little bit in awe. He certainly didn’t mind the proximity or the touch.

“Fisher, I think his name was.”

On the floor, a few steps away from the bookcase, Daud turned toward the Whaler who had shifted guiltily, with the silent promise that this would be addressed later. He didn’t take his eyes away from the man who bore the coat of an Officer of the Guard but didn’t behave like one.

“Did you betray us for the good Captain, Pavel?”

“What?!” Pavel squeaked in fright. “No! I didn’t! Captain Attano just wanted to ask me questions, Sir!

Although Corvo didn’t showcase the back of his hand, he didn’t hide it either. Several Whalers lowered their weapons to see it better.

“I take it you’re the one who has a matching tattoo?” Corvo asked Daud. “That would explain the Knife of Dunwall’s heresy and his rumored feats.”

“And if I did, what of it, Officer?”

“I’d take a few minutes of your time to get some answers.”

“You can’t afford my time, Captain.”

“I don’t doubt it, but as you and your men are still alive, and the Overseers dead or having fled the Flooded District, I expect you owe me one for an early warning.”

Sighing, Daud called: “Fisher.”

“I might have held the Captain under my blade and asked for information, then hit him with a sleep dart and left him on the docks after he cooperated,” Fisher admitted without apparent guilt. 

“Indeed,” Corvo confirmed.

“Fine, Officer,” Daud grunted. “So it seems I owe you one. One minute.” He gestured for his men to stand down.

“Do you know where Lady Emily is?”

Masks turned toward Daud, who stared at the Captain in bemusement. He started to realize that under his easy-going attitude, Attano was playing a shrewd game.

“Why do you care?” Daud finally asked.

“What do you think?” Corvo replied. There was a hint of anger simmering in his voice and sharpening his expression. 

Daud prudently chose not to bite. “Why should I tell you?”

“There is more blood on your hands than you need to bath in. Do you plan to add that of a child?”

“She’s not dead.”

“Can you guarantee she’ll stay that way? Safe and sound?”

Daud breathed out slowly, his fingers twitching, the leather of his gloves crinkling. He had already done a lot to protect the kid by taking care of Delilah... but Attano had a point. Protecting her from possession was all fine and good as long as she stayed alive and well. He sighed. “Fine. I’ll tell you what I know.”

This was the beginning of an interesting alliance.

oOo

A week later, Captain Geoff Curnow was fighting off three aggressors in a dark alley. He had just managed to get his niece out of the city by paying a high sum to get her through the blockade. Too high for him to go with her. 

So, it would end like this? … Well, it was better than the Plague he supposed.

As he shot one man dead, the two others fell simultaneously. 

He froze. That was not his doing.

“Captain Curnow.”

He spun around, rising his sword and pointing at a Whaler in a blue vest.

“I’m Thomas. Captain Attano sends me. We can make you disappear.”

Slightly lowering his sword at the name of his lover, Geoff stayed wary. “At what price?”

“Oh, not much. Just your help saving an Empress.”

Tilting his head, Geoff considered the situation for a moment before smiling. “Count me in.”

That would be a better way to die, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From there you can imagine your own end: similar to canon or much better (with the Whalers helping to save the Empress and the Empire, yay!), with Corvo and Geoff back together or Corvo/Daud and Thomas/Geoff... I imagined both versions, but they'll never be written. XD
> 
> I hope you liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at https://ashkaarishok.tumblr.com


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